The Watermill's Witch is no ordinary witch.

It's not spells, potions and hocus pocus, it's deep, disturbing and fierce.

This theatre company have brought Witch to the Warehouse Theatre, Croydon, and as I left the venue after witnessing this powerful play by Ade Morris, I was glad of a blast of icy cold air to clear my head.

Following the tortured mind of Susan, we were thrust back in time. Back to the age when men were sorcerers and women were witches'.

We never discovered why Susan was so desperately distressed, yet the inner turmoil portrayed by Clara Onyemere, was almost tangible.

Haunted by women cast from this earth as witches, she was the strongest character.

Her nightmarish world brings scenes of lust, persecution, murder and terror to the stage. The dramatic lighting accentuated her plight.

Whether Jamara (Toni Midlane) and Dee (John Sackville) are her counsellors or just voices in her head, I never grasped.

They interacted ferociously and, with a spooky white puppet, they dragged poor Susan down through a spiral of shocking demises. John Sackville frenetically played persecutor, lover, husband, magistrate, alchemist and priest.

I found it difficult to keep up with the mix it up, mix it up' scene changes.

Toni Midlane excelled in the role of a high class whore and hilarious Criminal Court witness.

This was the spell of Witch. I cringed at the scene that saw a baby ripped from a womb and flung on a fire, giggled at the romping scene and laughed out loud during the court scene.

The message delivered to me was that women were cast as witches by men to get them out of the way. A mistress is accused of being a witch by her late lover's vengeful wife; an incestuous relationship sees off a sister and her demon child'; a wife refusing her husband his nuptial rights from fear of syphilis is sent to Bedlam after she turned to murder; a medium is called a traitor and a spy for having a vision of warfare disaster.

The most revealing line came from Jamara to Susan: "You are a witch, you made a man weak."

This brutal, intriguing, powerful play runs until November 18. For tickets call the Warehouse box office: 020 8680 4060.

November 14, 2001 16:00